DOG
by LetThereBeRaito
Summary: Something's up with Haine. He's acting even more of a freak than usual. Badou and Haine, shonen ai of a sort Strong language.


Heyyyyy, it's been a while since I posted on here. I know there are a few people who want me to continue with my Death Note Fic, and I WILL, I promise (I just need to get the feel for it back), but in the meantime I've gotten quite attached to Dogs B and C, and about a year ago wrote a set of small fics for my friend. (as a Christmas present…filled up a whole notebook…first in rough, then completely in neat, with illustrations…TOOK AGES)

Anyway, I have decided to write them up and post them J

Oh, yes, P.S. I NEED A BETA. I know a couple of people said they would be up for it with my Death Note fics, but I'm not sure if this would be their bag. If anyone's up for it, or indeed those who offered before are, please message me J

PRZ, ENJOY.

Dog.

"What the hell are you chewing?" Badou's low, rattly voice, rattly from all those years of non-stop, chain smoking, drifted over to Haine, gradually penetrating his half conscious state.

"What the fuck do you _mean _'what am I…'" The albino cut himself short, suddenly discarding the item, which has just that second been clenched between his gnawing teeth, with one quick jerk of his wrist.

The bone made a sharp clattering as it skittered across the concrete floor, small shards of yellowing white splintering off in all directions.

How the _fuck_ had he not noticed he had been chewing a shitty bone for the past ten minutes?!

Badou's remaining eye regarded him with an interesting cocktail of mirth, concern and disgust.

Haine spat out of the side of his mouth, the spittle hitting the concrete wetly, before standing, his pallid hands wrapping around his trusty Nine Millimetre SMG's.

"We goin' in or what?"

Badou pulled back the sleeve of his aging camouflage parker to reveal a well worn watch.

"It's been about half an hour since my last smoke…"

He pushed himself up off the floor, rising to his full, lanky height, all limbs and long hair.

"I'd say that's a definite fucking yes then, Beano."

As they rounded the corner of the large pillar previously concealing them, their conversation drew to a muffled close over the deafening explosions of 9mm parabellum cartridges. "Beano?"

"Short for Albino."

And was concluded with a pained yelp from the red head.

***

Badou gathered his red, blood encrusted hair with one bony hand and swiftly secured it with a black hair band. It may have been covered in shit and grime, but he just couldn't be fucked to wash it, and then spend fucking ages trying to dry it with his clapped out old hairdry…

Hot, mud-tinged water slopped heavily over the lip of the tub, the sound of it smacking against the peeling lino an aggravating reminder that he'd be mopping that up later, as Badou shot up from his previously reclined position. His bottom lip hung slack in confusion, a short lived hiss as his freshly lit cigarette fell into the water, narrowly missing his protruding knee.

"Ah, fukkit!!" He cried out in frustration, before he remembered he was supposed to be shutting his big fucking trap and listening… Because something definitely just fucking moved from inside his living room. And he _definitely _heard some form of loud bang. Like an idiot, he absently picked up the sodden white stick and popped it in his mouth, all the while concentrating with all his might, trying to discern what the fuck that crashing noise was just now.

Silently sliding his over lengthened limbs out of the tub and placing his feet onto the freezing freakin' cold lino, he carefully padded up to the door. Palms flat, ear cocked, shitty sodden cigarette finally spat to the floor in disgust (what the fuck!?), Badou pressed himself up against the wooden partition, muscles all tensed up because it would obviously improve his hearing. And when that didn't work, pressed himself harder against the door as that would definitely improve his fucking hearing. As his absent hand roamed the area of buck naked butt cheek in search for a pocket, which, in theory, would be there and holding smokes, a sort of muffled…_grunting_ drifted through the door.

Once. Twice. THREE times.

Screwing his face up indignantly at the sound, his hand shot out (the one which had been previously searching hiss arse pocket for smokes) and grabbed his automatic from the sink, his bare foot crashing into the door and swinging it open with such force it smacked Haine in the head and pretty damn near knocked him the fuck out.

"What the FUCK?" The guttural, incensed roar erupted from the albino sprawled upon the living room floor, snarling into the nuzzle of his partner's gun.

"That's what I should be saying!!" Badou's voice, wild and high pitched suddenly, not doing him any favours in concealing his fear mingled with slow, spreading relief.

Smacking the gun out the way with a pallid hand, Haine froze, his mouth dropping in an I-feel-so-fucking-awkward line. Yelping like a school girl who'd just had her arse pinched on the subway, the red head hurriedly cupped 'himself' with both hands and ambled backwards in what could have been the most ineloquent dance Haine had ever seen. Rising to his full height, Haine cocked a white eyebrow, blood red eyes apparantly somewhat disinterested.

"One hand woulda done y'know. And I'd appreciate that thing being at least three inches away from my face next time. One inch, and it's in biting range."

Mouth open and ready to retaliate, Badou stopped, his line of vision settling on his front door.

"What the HELL happened to my door!?" He screeched, the pitch almost painful as the cost of the repair damage.

"Oh. That." Said Haine, just about bothering to glance back over his shoulder. "The door was locked. So I shot it."

Badou's jaw dropped, his second, thankfully unlit, cigarette falling to the floor with a muffled plop as it hit the carpeting.

"Shot it!? You fucking obliterated it!! Have you heard of knocking!?" His voice still at that unbearable pitch, arms gesticulating wildly in no apparent conjunction to his words.

" I did knock."

"You're fucking paying for that out of our next job!"

Taking one step forward and jamming the red head in the bare, wet chest with an index finger, Haine growled out of the side of his mouth, "The amount of commission I've let you take of mine over the years would amount to enough to pay for a thousand fucking doors."

Badou's one eye fixed on Haine for a while before relaxing his shoulders and lifting them into a half arsed shrug.

"I guess that's true."

Without saying a word in return, the albino turned the other way, face like fucking thunder, and stalked into the kitchen, soon returning with a single, somewhat grubby, glass of water. He leaned against the wall, sipping from it intermittently. Retrieving the fallen cigarette from the carpet, Badou rested it between his lips and wondered around the room in search of a lighter, the damp towel only just holding up over his jutting hip bones. He was jabbed in the ribs from behind and turned around, lips poised with abuse, to find his partner proffering a blue, disposable clipper. A simple click and it was lit, the red head taking back an achingly slow drag, his glistening chest expanding as his lungs filled with smoke. A deep exhale later and the grey puffs plumed out from his flared nostrils, his expression one of pure ecstasy.

"Phewww," He whistled. "A few more minutes there and I'da been all crazy-Badou on yo ass."

"Terrifying," Haine muttered, cocking one eyebrow and gazing into his glass.

"You bet it is, " He winked, his mouth positioned into a goofy, lopsided grin. Happily puffing away at his stick, all memories of moments before apparantly forgotten, one particular notion suddenly came back with full force. "Oh yeah, what the hell was that grunting noise?"

Haine's pale features screwed up in confusion, yet it somehow came across more as contempt.

"I don't hear anything…"

"No, not now, earlier."

"…?"

Badou's face hung deadpan, his hand half arsedly searching the table for an ashtray. He couldn't find one.

" When I was in the bath just now I definitely heard this weird kinda grunting noise."

His bony fingers pinched at the still lit cigarette butt, his hand begun it's descent to the table top. An ashtray, courtesy of Haine, was slipped beneath the approaching cigarette, apparantly without the others knowledge. He was clearly too fucking consumed in this grunting business to notice whether he was about to burn down the place or not, Haine thought with a disgruntled expression.

Two white hands clamped around Badou's head, one shocked eye wide open, the albino yanked his partner towards him and peered into that dirty black cavern otherwise known as an ear. Once satisfied, he released him and pushed him back slightly with a quick thump to the shoulder, making some comment about Badou cleaning out the wax. Frowning in exasperation, Badou threw his hands up in surrender, towel slipping further down those protruding hipbones.

"I'll be back in a minute man," He finally said. " Jus' need to go stock up on the smokes."

Yanking some cruddy old jeans over his still damp, gangly legs, an old crumpled t shirt over his head and throwing on his trademark camo parker and a pair of worn canvas shoes, Badou left, almost shutting the door before realizing with a quiet grumble that it no longer existed.

***

It had only taken him five minutes to get there, make the quick transaction ("Regular, please, man.", "20 packs then?", "You got it.") and get back again. Fumbling about in his pocket for his keys, until he remembered his fucking door had been eradicated courtesy of Haine, he strode up the hallway, shoes crunching on the general crap and shit that was never cleaned off of the carpeting. He stopped jus before he reached his gaping doorway. There it was again. That fucking grunting noise. Unable to see from his current position and determined to discover what it was, Badou slid silently along the wall, closing the short distance between himself and the doorframe. Body flat against the peel of the shitty wallpaper just about lining the halls, Badou peeked his red head around the empty frame, his one green eye soaking up the scene, and uttered four words, his cigarette once again making it's descent to the floor.

"Shit…This. Is. Priceless."

***

"You fucking liar!" Haine's voice growled from somewhere within the bathroom where he was currently relieving himself. The abrupt sound of a zipper and gush of water from the rusting taps later and he was back in the living room, glaring at Badou through a haze of smoke.

"I'm fucking not! I'm TELLING you…"

"I KNOW what you're fucking telling me!" Haine fiercely interjected, taking a step forward, whilst Badou took one back, tripped over the couch and landed arse over tit. "But I don't believe the shit that comes outta your mouth!"

The red head appeared genuinely hurt as he peered up at his partner from the floor. Although it could have been due to the misplaced TV remote wedged up his arse.

"So…" The albino began, blood-red eyes narrowed. "You mean to say I was sitting RIGHT HERE, (a forceful point to the ground to annunciate each syllable) on my 'fucking haunches', as you so put it, scratching my…my ear with my foot!?"

Badou's lips were pressed together into a thin line. He was definitely not about to laugh. Nope. That's not what he was trying to prevent at all. Nuh uh. His cheeks flushed as a snort erupted from his throat instead of an answer, hands hurriedly clamped over his mouth to stifle himself.

Haine's fists tightened, eyes shut, closing off his crimson orbs to the world as he took in a slow, calm, breath.

"It was behind your ear."

And with those words the red head squealed in terror and scrambled up from his current position on the floor, limbs flailing as the butt of Haine's gun came spinning towards his head.

***

It had been a tough job. It had been a fucking tough job. And had it not been for his human shield, he'd be damn well dead right now. They'd parted company at the church, Haine dropping in to see Nill, more than likely to get her to remove the blood stains from his clothes.

Badou pressed forward, fag clenched between teeth whilst his right hand gripped his left shoulder, attempting to staunch the flow of blood from the clean wound produced by a machete that had just missed. Head beginning to feel faint, he stumbled into his apartment block, slowly ascended the necessary amount of stairs and collapsed into his gaping doorway. Crawling to the sofa, he pulled himself up and dropped his weight onto it, limbs spread-eagled.

He cringed as his arm twisted at a slightly unnatural angle, tugging at the burning skin surrounding the wound.

"Jeez, fuck, OUCH, why the fuck can't I heal in ten fuckin' seconds!?" He bitched to nobody but himself and his emptying packet of smokes. he about managed to sit up and withdraw one of the white sticks. Putting it to his lips, he did a quick scan of the room, his hand unconsciously miming the flicking of a lighter as he did so.

"Where the hell's Haine when you need him?" He groaned, flopping back into his seat, cigarette waggling as he spoke. Luckily, on the journey to scratch his arse, he discovered he had been sitting on an old crumpled packet of matches. The relief that spread through him was like fucking morphine. Sighing as he took the first toke, he shut his eyes and tried to blot out the visions of his and Haine's bullets tearing apart those freaking animal men.

The sky now an inky black, he turned his head to gaze out of the rain stained window. The stars stood out in shocking contrast, as did the moon in all it's full ,glowing glory. Badou just didn't get how a world could be so beautiful and so stinking fucking shit all at the same time. He'd been staring at the moon for so long, at one point the could swear he heard the low, haunting how of a wolf. Shutting his eyes and digging his ear out with a biro lid he had found on the floor, he looked towards the window once again. Nope. He could still hear it.

Standing up, left arm swinging slightly limp now, he opened the window and craned his head outside.

Peering down, he was met with a postcard picturesque view of washed out old alleys complete with fallen trash cans, stray cats, and what was most probably a prostitute.

"Hey, baby!" He yelled, leaning out of the window a little further, a lopsided grin on his stupid face and an attempt at a wink which was really just a blink. Eventually realizing his real agenda, he was slightly surprised to discover there was no dog down there. Except maybe the hooker. But…yeah, there it fucking was again.

Long, slow. Kind of haunting.

There was another block of apartments facing Badou's, it's bricks worn and shit stained (bird shit, that is), about five metres away. One of the old, metal framed windows screeched open, a fat guy with a balding head and a once white vest leaned out. His ugly features screwed up into a frown, he looked as though he were about to shout something to the floor below until he stopped, looked up, and then looked at Badou.

"Hey, buddy."

Badou blinked.

"there's some frikkin' freak up on your roof, get him to shut the FUCK up." And with that, Fat Baldy slammed his window shut, the beginnings of a healthy sized crack in the pane springing to life.

The red head's first reaction was to shit his pants, but despite his initial fear, he looked up anyway. Reflex, ya know. And there, two stories higher, was the upside down (from Badou's perspective) visage of Haine leaning over the lip of the roof on his hands and feet, gazing up at the moon. The ambience of said moon casting on to his partner to make him look like an even paler fucking white freak.

***

Haine was sat on the 'good half' of Badou's sofa (the seat which hadn't collapsed in on itself yet), a blanket around his shoulders and a steaming mug of cocoa encased in his pallid, bony hands. His ever caring partner sat on the single chair opposite.

"Weeeeeell…" He began, unable to meet Haine's eyes which were fixated on the brown liquid. "That was a surprise…Findin' you half naked, howlin', on my rooftop at midnight." Badou did brilliantly, just brilliantly, at concealing his impending laughter. Maybe it was something to do with the empty expression on the albino's face. It was more fun when he was pissed and angry. But…when he was like this, it wasn't right to make fun. Unwritten man cod n' all.

"What's more surprising is the fact that you have cocoa." He mumbled, pulling the cup closer to his face, if only to warm his cheeks with the steam. The quick, sharp click of a lighter and the room filled with smoke.

"Uh, Haine? What's goin' on with you?"

"My mother was a bitch?"

Badou snorted through his nose, steam spurting out like a whistling kettle.

"You reckon…they did this to you?" He pointed towards the carpet.

"What, your neighbours on the next floor?"

"Ha bloody ha!" Badou shot up, finding himself irritated by the wisecracks.

Haine lifted his ghost white shoulders and pulled the itchy blanket further around his topless form.

"I dunno. Maybe. Probably. At least we know I don't transform on a full moon, though."

"Chuh," Badou snorted, before stubbing out his cigarette and stretching up high, forgetting about the gash in his shoulder, and grimacing in pain.

"Bed. I'm bushed. You sleep on the sofa. Night." And with that, he stalked into his room and shut the door.

***

His room was fucking freezing tonight. He knew it had been cold outside but…Damn, it was just _freezing._ Maybe he had lost more blood than he thought. Burying himself further in the duvet, he stretched out his legs as they were beginning to ache from where he had been sleeping in the foetal position.

As his toes spread out, they hit something. Hard. Yet, conversely, quite soft. Performing some further investigatory prodding, Badou learnt that this object was also big. And heavy. And, as he sat up, looked an awful fucking lot like Haine. Looked an awful fucking lot like Haine had crawled onto the end of his bed, curled up, fallen asleep, lips parted, shadowed eyes untroubled.

Frowning, and on the verge of yelling, Badou stopped, let out a heavy sigh, and settled for jamming his cold feet under his partners warm body.

"Well, at least he makes a damn good foot muffler."


End file.
